Finders Keepers
by Blueroan
Summary: I watched Amanda for a few moments; if she really knew what I was, then something drastic would have to be done. I was meticulous when it came to my human appearance, I'd never been exposed before.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!

_Just a little something to test out the usefulness of my screen reader program ... before I go back to campus and have to use it for a grade. It's fantastic; I can't believe how many mistakes Word leaves un-caught in my work. But when I have the computer read it back to me ... I hear what you guys are reading. It's amazing; I love Assistive technology! I hope it helped me catch most of my mistakes and I plan to use it with my other stories in the future. _

_So drop me a polite note to tell me how Adobe Reader and I did._

Chapter 1

**Unexpected**

The roar of the ambulance as it pulled up outside the emergency room doors was an all too familiar sound in my life. It signaled another poor soul in the throes of a catastrophe; I could only mutter a silent prayer that it wasn't too terribly serious and that it wasn't someone I was well acquitted with or fond of.

I followed the trauma team out to the ambulance bay; the EMTs were just opening the doors preparing to off load my new patient. The smell of blood wafting from the back of the vehicle wasn't strong. That was a mildly encouraging sign. Unfortunately, a lack of extreme external bleeding was no guarantee of a lack of severe injury. I wouldn't know anything for certain until I heard the case history from the first responders and had an opportunity to thoroughly examine the patient.

"Carlisle," my name echoed over the constant rumble of the ambulance's diesel engine. When I turned towards the direction of the voice I found Chief Swan marching with purpose in my direction. His expression was both grim and apologetic. "She's a hit and run," he informed me solemnly as he handed me a clipboard. "And she's not from around here; a runaway most likely, and definitely underage . . . maybe in her mid to late teens."

"How bad is she?"

"She was on foot when the SUV clipped her; she's got a pretty nasty knock to the noggin," he informed me sadly. "The EMT's say they think her arm is broken. But on the bright side, she's conscious."

I nodded as I signed Charlie's papers.

"And could you do me a favor . . . you know, as one father to another," He inquires in his usual hesitant sort of way. I looked up from the clipboard to meet his gaze as he continued. "Could you tell Bells not to be such a stranger? I mean, I know she's busy being a wife and mother now and all, but I'd like to see her and my granddaughter every once and a while."

This was one of the many reasons we didn't leave Forks immediately after Bella's transformation; the sudden loss of his daughter would have devastated Charlie. Especially considering everything else he'd been forced to endure over the past few years, all of which had been because of Bella and Edward's turbulent relationship.

"I'll mention to her that she ought to drop by," I insisted reassuringly. I knew all too well the anguish of not hearing from a child; more than once, Edward had gone off on his own leaving Esme and I to wonder about him.

"Thanks," he replied, running a nervous hand through his hair. "I hate to sound desperate or be a bother."

"Nonsense, it's no bother at all and there's nothing desperate about wanting to hear from your child," I patted his shoulder as I answered. Charlie was a good man and I genuinely liked him.

The EMTs were moving the gurney and my new patient towards the emergency room doors. I politely dismissed myself from Charlie's company and followed everyone inside. I was quickly given further information on the young female; head trauma with a deep laceration over the right eye, multiple contusions to the torso, and a suspected fracture of the lower right forearm. All in all, she'd gotten off rather lucky considering that she been in an altercation with a speeding SUV.

I wrote my standard set of orders given this situation in her chart; a trip to Radiology for x-rays of her arm, chest, and skull as well as a CT scan to check for any hidden brain injuries. When the buzzing hive of nurses' finally finished with their admitting protocol, I entered the now quiet emergency bay.

"Hello Miss," I called softly as I entered the exam room, "My name is Dr. . . ."

"Stay away from me," she shrieked as she tumbled rather ungracefully from the gurney. "Just stay away from me . . . do you hear!"

"Settle down now, Miss . . ." I paused, running one frustrated hand through my short blond hair. "I don't even know your name," I muttered. Charlie said that she had no ID on her and she wouldn't give them any information. For legal and book keeping purposes, her chart listed her as Jane Doe #104.

"Amanda," she answered softly. When I looked up she had herself pressed tightly into the far corner of the room.

"Amanda," I cooed, "What a lovely name. Did you know that its origin is Latin and that it means: she who must be loved?"

She continued to glare at me with suspicious cinnamon eyes. "I don't care what it means, just stay away."

I felt my left eyebrow rise slightly; though I was aware that hospitals were not generally on the top ten lists of fun places in the minds of most humans, Amanda's behavior was baffling. I had seen drug addicts act this way so I took a deep breath in the form of a sigh, scenting her in search of any hint of illicit substances. I detected nothing.

"Your hurt Amanda," I insisted gently. "I'm here to help you . . . but I can't do that if you're uncooperative."

I began slowly edging my way towards her, but I didn't make more than three steps before she shrieked again. "Stay away." Then in a lower tone that was almost a hiss she continued, "I know what you are." She pointed one trembling finger at me. "Your eyes are a different color, not red like theirs, but I still know. Your presence makes me feel just like theirs does; my skin burns like I'm on fire." Then she wrapped her good arm around her abdomen and slid slowly down the wall until she was a puddle on the grey linoleum floor.

I watched her for a few moments; if she really knew what I was, then something drastic would have to be done. I was meticulous when it came to my human appearance, I'd never been exposed before; this was a first for me. My mind quickly catalogued everything in the ER's pharmacy that I could possibly give her that would cause death, while being overlooked on an autopsy . . . and of course, something that would not cause her to suffer unnecessarily. Her death on my shift would definitely be the source of an inquest unless I could make it look convincing.

"_You're not seriously contemplating this, are you?"_ my inner man asked hotly. "_After four centuries of preserving human life, now you're going to kill an innocent child. This isn't like you, Carlisle. Does Aro and the Volturi have you that afraid; scared enough to sacrifice every scrap of your morality?"_

I sighed as I continued to watch Amanda; she remained curled in a whimpering ball in the far corner. After a moment more I crossed the room and quietly shut the door. What I was about to do was a private affair and I didn't want witnesses.

I slowly approached the corner occupied by my patient and in response she pulled in tighter. The movement made her groan with pain; she needed treatment . . . now.

"Listen to me Amanda," I began as I knelt before her, "it is now ten minutes past midnight. My shift doesn't end until seven in the morning; until then I'm the only doctor here. Which means; I'm the only qualified medical provider in this ER available to treat you."

"I can wait," she croaked.

She was being stubborn; a trait that I generally admired in the human spirit, but one I loathed in my patients. "No, you can't wait." I informed her sternly. "Your injuries are serious and require immediate attention. Already your foolish behavior has cost you precious time." I paused and then added, "You have heard of the Golden Hour, haven't you?"

She nodded, but said nothing.

"Well, you've wasted a sizable chunk of it." I stood and offered her my hand. "You need x-rays, a CT scan, and sutures in that gash above your eye . . . and that's just for starters. It's quite likely you have a concussion and, depending on how bad the fracture to your arm is, you may need surgery." I was still waiting for her to take my hand as I paused. My over exaggerated grim prognosis wasn't having the desired effect on her. She wasn't at all inclined to accept my aid any time soon so I decided to prod her a bit more. "In spite of what you might think of me, or the misgivings that you harbor in your heart, you're going to have to trust me, Amanda . . . there really is no other alternative."

"Alright," she replied in a shaky voice as she allowed me to help her up, "But you can think of my trust like a line of credit . . . ruin it and it's ruined for good."

"Agreed," I chuckled in response.

As I helped her back onto the gurney and got her situated I noticed a new, more thoughtful, expression on her face. When her wide cinnamon eyes locked with mine she whispered. "I'm not crazy you know . . . really, I'm not."

"I wasn't of the opinion that you were," I insisted as I pulled the sheet and blanket over her feet and legs, "but we'll discuss that later." My predatory ears had just detected the swishing sound of the elevator opening and closing followed by the sound of our night porter, Clyde, greeting one of the nurses; transportation had arrived to escort Amanda to radiology.

"Oh, hi Doc," Clyde announced brightly as he entered Amanda's room. "Do I need to come back later?"

"No, the young lady is all yours." With that I left Clyde to his duties.

I checked on the other two patients currently under my care before retreating to the sanctuary of my office. The charge nurse was under orders to inform me when Amanda and the results of her test were back. No sooner had I closed my office door than my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. When I looked, I saw Alice's name on the glowing blue screen.

"A heads up would have been nice, you know." I grumped at my effervescent middle daughter as I answered the call.

"Hello to you too," she chirped in reply. "And, I did warn you . . . before you left I said that your shift would be _interesting_ tonight."

"By interesting I assumed you meant some baffling medical mystery." I slumped into my desk chair as I spoke, "Some rare exotic disease never before seen on American soil that would test the limits of my diagnostic abilities, or perhaps an anomaly of biology, like a two headed man. I wasn't expecting _interesting_ to mean a teenage girl who knows our secret."

"Well, in my defense, I wasn't sure any of this would actually take place," she explained. "There were too many variables; Amanda is as hard to predict as a will-o'-the-wisp and then, of course, Levi wasn't totally decided on stealing his dad's SUV for a joy ride until like, the last possible minute."

"I see." Concurrence was the only obvious approach given Alice's illumination of the facts. "And now that all the cosmic forces are in some semblance of alignment, what do you foresee happening next?"

"Dhuh, you're going to bring her home, of course," She sounded entirely too pleased with herself as she said that. "Oh and FYI, she doesn't really know about our little secret. She can sense our presence and the Volturi have been hunting her because they're interested in her gift, but she doesn't know we're vampires. So, that should make you feel a lot better about your decision not to bump her off."

"Yes, you've definitely taken a load off my mind; thank you Alice." For some reason my attempts at sarcasm never came out quite right.

"Oh stop that, you know as well as I do that you didn't really want to kill her." She sighed with mock frustration. "The prospect of doing her in had you sick with guilt . . . and don't even think about denying it, I watched you go back and forth trying to make that decision."

There was a knock at my door then, and the scent of Nurse Monroe wafted under the door sweep. "Hold on a minute Alice."

"No need, it's the nurse coming with Amanda's test results," She supplied brightly. "See you when you get home." Before I could reply, she hung up.

"Enter," I called loud enough for the matronly nurse to hear me. The door opened slowly and nurse Mavis Monroe shuffled into my office, chart in hand.

"This little one is a real humdinger." She commented dryly as she handed me the chart. "Broken arm, bang to the head, bruises, and all and still she manage to give poor Harvey a rough time of it down in x-ray."

"What happened?" I asked as I began reading over the Radiologist's report.

"How about, for starters, she refuses to get on the x-ray table. When Harvey finally convinces her to haul her stubborn keister up there, she wouldn't be still. They ended up shooting the same films four times."

I got up while she was still speaking and began moving towards the door. "Go on, I'm listening," I encouraged as I walked.

"The CT tech had the same trouble," Mavis went on, "the only difference is, when he had his back turned to adjust the machine settings, that girl bolted for the hall like a floozy caught in a flop house raid."

I repressed the urge to laugh at Mavis' use of colorful language. She was, by far, the night shift's most gifted story teller; I was certain she could make just about any news entertaining.

I flipped through the reports and found one concerning her CT scan. "How did Lester manage to do the test?"

"You know Lester," she shrugged. "Nine years in law enforcement before he decided to go back to school and join the medical profession. Old habits die hard and ex-cops die even harder . . . she picked the wrong hombre to mess with. He, uhm, _detained _her."

I gave her a quizzical look but she only pointed to the exam room and replied, "You'll see."

I made my way with an increasing sense of dread towards Amanda's room. "Hey, let me out of these things," I heard her bellow from behind the closed door. "Come on, it's making my arm hurt."

I shook my head and crossed the rest of the expanse separating me from my patient's room. When I opened the door I found Amanda in leather foot and ankle restraints and tied to her gurney. She looked at me with horror filled eyes as I closed the door.

"Nurse Monroe tells me that you've been misbehaving." I turned to the small sink and busied myself with a thorough hand washing so that she wouldn't see the very unprofessional grin on my face. "I thought we had an agreement; you were going to trust me and let me tend your injuries."

"I said I would trust _you_," she replied emphasizing the word 'you'. "I never said anything about the rest of the people around here."

"And just what's wrong with the rest of the staff?" I asked as I dried my hands; the grin was gone now, I was back in clinical mode. I moved to the medicine cabinet as I continued speaking. I wanted to keep her distracted as I drew up the sedative I would give her to make her groggy while I set and casted her fractured arm. "Did you detect any more like me lurking around the hospital?" I knew she hadn't, aside from my family and I there were no more vampires for miles.

"No," she huffed, "You're the only one of '_them'_ around. Your staff doesn't understand, I need to get out of here before the red eyed freaks come looking for me."

"Trust me, your quite safe from the 'red eyed freaks' right now," I assured her as I introduced the sedative into her IV.

"What's that . . . its poison isn't it?" She began to pull franticly at her bonds. "I knew I couldn't trust you; man, you just ruined your credit."

"Calm yourself, Amanda," I insisted as I tried to stop her thrashing. "Please calm down; I'm not here to hurt you."

"Yeah, right," she sneered, "That's what the dark haired Godfather dude said . . . 'I won't hurt you young one', and then he offered to give me a gift. I told him that I didn't want any of what he had to offer and I split."

Dark haired Godfather dude; her description was very specific and she could only mean Aro. I had to admit, the leader of our world did look like something out of a Francis Ford Coppola movie. I would have to question her later about her encounter with Aro and how she managed to escape. I was sure that the tale would prove fascinating.

"I assure you young lady, if I wanted to kill you, then you would be very dead by now." Amanda struck me as a rather intelligent child, so I decided to try logic on her. "There is an assassin's cornucopia of substances around this hospital that I could easily administer with lethal results . . . and no one would question a thing."

"Then what is . . . that . . . stuff?" her speech was slightly slurred; she was already becoming groggy.

"Do you want to be lucid while I attend to your broken arm; it's quite painful." She shook her head weekly; her eyelids were beginning to droop indicating to me that the drug was starting to take hold. "What I just gave you will keep you very comfortable while I see after your injuries."

A few minutes later and she was out like a light.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** _I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!_

_I actually wrote most of this chapter while working on chapter one. infact, it was all intended to be one llllooonnnggg chapter, but I detest long chapters. So I finished it during several short breaks form studying CVA last night. I have my first major exam in that class in two weeks . . . yikes!_

_Enjoy!_

Chapter 2

**Unbelieving:**

The clock on my office desk read 4:47 am. Amanda was still sleeping peacefully. I had just checked on her twenty minutes ago when I discharged one of my patients. I now fished my phone from my pocket and dialed my wife's number. If I was to bring home a human guest, I needed to make sure that the home front was prepared for her. This meant getting the guest room in order, having a human meal of some sort prepared, and most importantly, making sure that everyone had a chance to hunt so that their thirst was in check.

"Carlisle," my wife purred when she answered the phone. "Is everything alright, are you staying late again?"

"No, my love, I should be home right on time." She didn't mention Amanda so I assumed that Alice hadn't told her. "Uhm, Esme . . . I'm going to be bringing home a guest, she . . ."

"She's human and her name is Amanda," she interrupted me with a happy chirp. "I know, Alice told me. I have the guest room ready and by the time you get here I'll have a hearty homemade breakfast for her. Rose, Emmett, Alice and Jasper are out hunting now and as soon as they get back Edward, Bella, and I will take our turn." Then she paused and added in a worried tone, "Rose is already fuming; I thought you should know that before you arrive. Jasper's not happy either, but he's willing to reserve judgment for the moment."

"What about the others?" I had a hunch Rose would be unhappy; it happened when Alice and Jasper showed up on our doorstep and again when Bella fell into our lives. She guarded her place in the family fiercely and had a hard time expanding her circle of inclusion.

"Alice is excited." She replied. "Nothing gets her going like the prospect of a new shopping victim . . . uhm, I mean shopping buddy. Emmett, Edward, and Bella are indifferent about the matter."

I wasn't surprised by my wife's revelations; at least I knew what to expect when I got Amanda home. "Thank you, my love; I'll see you in a little while."

**0o0o0o0o**

At six o'clock I began making preparations to end my shift and head home. After making sure all my cases were cleared and either admitted to the floor or discharged, I began working on Amanda's paperwork. I made up an alias for her; this would thwart any investigation made by meddling authorities. Being a minor, in order to discharge her, the law required that I have a responsible adult to accept custody of her; I signed the name of a bogus relative on the dotted line. With all the commotion that usually surrounded shift change, no one would notice me taking Amanda to the parking lot.

Once her chart was finished and signed, I packed a few medical essentials to get her through the next few days; nothing too major, just some extra bandages for her head, a round of oral antibiotics to prevent infection, and some pain meds to keep her comfortable. If I needed anything else, I could always acquire it later.

When I returned to her room I found her still sleeping and that's when the next challenge in my well conceived plan presented itself. At the accident scene, the EMT's had cut her clothing from her and her current attire consisted of a hospital gown. I couldn't take the poor child home to the family in that, it would be most embarrassing for her. I rummaged around and managed to find a set of scrubs that I thought looked to be about the right size. She was still too out of it from the sedative I'd given her earlier to manage dressing herself, so I closed the door and prepared her for her trip home.

"No," she moaned weekly as I removed the gown. She made a halfhearted and groggy attempt to fight me off.

"I'm not going to hurt you child," I assured her softly as I slipped the scrub top on over her head as gently as I could. She protested again when I went to slide the pants on her. I'd given her a rather strong dose of medicine when I worked on her arm and she really wasn't in her right mind; perhaps she thought I was up to something ungentlemanly. "There now, sweetheart, it's alright . . . I'm almost done," I soothed as I slid the waist band of the pants up her thighs.

I lifted her from the bed, being ever mindful of her battered and bruised torso. I didn't wish to cause her any unnecessary pain, but it was the only way to get her into the waiting wheelchair and eventually out to my car.

"Nice and easy now," I whispered as I gingerly lowered her into the wheelchair. She moaned again, but didn't wake up.

When we reached the car, I was left with deciding whether to put her in the backseat so she could lie down, or in front where I could monitor her better. I decided on the front, but I reclined the seat fully so that she could rest comfortably.

The drive out to my home from Forks took about an hour and thirty-five minuets, if I minded the speed limit. Ordinarily, at this hour of the morning and on this stretch of highway I could get away with doing about 85 mph; as opposed to the posted limit of 45. This morning, however, I decided to keep my speed to the posted limit, as I was hoping Amanda would wake up some before we reached the house. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I had given her a bit too much sedative.

After about forty five minutes, she began to stir. I cracked the window a bit and opened the sunroof to let in the fresh morning air; I hoped this would help revive her. To my delight it worked and a few moments later she opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

"Easy, just relax," I soothed as I reached over and gently forced her back against the seat.

"Where am I?" I took note of the slight increase in her heartbeat; she was becoming more aroused as the medicine's affects were slowly wearing off.

"In my car, of course," I replied with gently. "How else did you expect me to get you home?"

Her reaction was instantaneous; she went from groggy and relaxed to panicked and agitated faster than my Mercedes could go from 0 to 60. Suddenly she was tugging at her seatbelt with her good hand and groping for the door handle with her bad one, and all the while her heart was pounding like a heard of wild horses in her chest. For her own safety, I couldn't let her continue behaving like that. I pulled over onto the shoulder and put my car in park before confronting my human passenger.

"Would you please settle down?" I demanded rather loudly. I preferred not to raise my voice and because of that, when I did it, it usually got people's attention.

She stopped what she was doing and just sat there gawking at me. Her eyes held an oceans worth of fear, but at least she was still. For several moments we just sat there looking at each other as I tried to figure out what to do next. Not once in four hundred years did I think that I would be left dumbfounded by a human teenage girl.

"What's wrong Amanda," I finally asked quietly. "Why are you so upset?"

She continued to stare at me, but wouldn't speak so I went on with my rambling. "I know you're afraid, that's understandable given everything you've been through. But I have given you multiple assurances that I mean you no harm. Won't you please trust me?"

"I don't even know who you are." She muttered under her breath. If I had been human, I likely wouldn't have heard it.

My mind rifled through my evenings encounter searching for the moment when I introduced myself. I remember starting to tell her my name when I first entered the exam room, but I had been cut off by her violent reaction to me. After that, I had made no other attempt.

"My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I introduce myself politely, "but you may call me Carlisle."

"What do you want with me?" she continued her questioning.

"I want to help you; I've tried to impress that fact upon you all evening."

"I don't believe you," she shot back at me, and then she began trying the doors again. Of course, I had them locked from the control panel on the driver's side door, so her efforts were useless.

"Stop that Amanda," I sighed. "The doors are locked from my side; you'll only injure yourself further if you continue." She gave the door one last frustrated tug before slumping into her seat.

"Ok," she finally groaned. "But do it quick . . . I don't want to suffer too much."

"I beg your pardon?" I had no earthly idea what she was going on about.

"Obviously you brought me out here to the middle of nowhere so that you could get rid of me quietly," she turned to me then and I noticed resignation in her eyes. "I won't fight you, just promises me you'll do it fast and painless . . . is that too much to ask?"

"Dear God," I exclaimed. "You still think that I intend to kill you." I was stunned. After all my assurances and all the efforts I had made on her behalf, how could she still think I wanted her dead. Yet it was obvious from her demeanor that those were indeed her beliefs and she was now resigned to her fate.

"As I told you in the hospital, Amanda," I sighed, "if my desire was to kill you, then you would already be dead." Then I added, "In fact, you've been asleep in my car for the better part of the past hour. Trust me if killing you was my motive, it would have been a simple matter to pull off onto one of the hundreds of Forest Service roads that crisscross this area, inject a syringe full of air into your veins, and then dump your body in the woods. I assure you, my family and I would be long gone from this area and forgotten in the mind of the locals by the time some poor hunter or hiker stumbled across your bleached bones."

I hoped my truthful and logical commentary would bring her to her senses. In spite of my passive vegan lifestyle, for a vampire, killing a human and disposing of the evidence was as natural an act as breathing. My family had 'cleaned up' after ourselves before; most recently we were forced to do so after one of Jasper's indiscretions which caused our return to Forks in the first place.

She gawked at me then, her complexion turning nearly as pale as mine. It occurred to me in that moment that perhaps my candor was a bit over the top. I should have expected as much after practically outlining an act of premeditated murder. I needed to tone things down and stop sounding like a modern-day Jack the Ripper, if I intended to earn her trust.

"What I mean by that is; I have had the means, motive, and ample opportunity to end your life and yet here you sit, still in firm possession of it. I don't want to kill you Amanda, I want to help you. Now will you _please_ extend to me a small measure of your trust and calm down."

She continued to gaze at me with wide eyes for several more minutes before she nodded. "Ok," she muttered shyly.

I sighed loudly as I reached for the gear shift and prepared to resume or journey home. "Thank you Amanda," then as an afterthought I added, "May I safely assume that it is alright to continue home now?"

"Yes," she muttered again, "I'm sorry for being trouble."

"You don't need to apologize," I insisted gently. After I pulled back onto the highway, I stole a sideways glance at her; she looked so utterly repentant that it made my dead heart ache. "And incidentally, you're not being trouble, you're simply afraid. Given what you've told me of your life thus far, that fear is both healthy and understandable. But try to remember that my family and I wish to help you. No harm will come to you so long as you are in our custody . . . alright Amanda," I turned to look at her then and smiled in hopes that she would relax a bit more.

"Ok," was all she could manage to say.

I wasn't entirely sure I had reached her; I couldn't insist with any certainty that her trust was mine, but at least a start had been made. Amanda and I were still on unstable ground and the events of the hours and days to come would either solidify that ground and thus build her confidence in me or they would erode it from under her and I would never have her trust. . . only time would tell.


End file.
